Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Oman and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Kango’s Stein Massive to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Monks. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
MDC,
Ludus,
Excepter,
Mandrill,
The Saints,
Kenny Larkin,
The Remains,
The Move,
Khruangbin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roxy Music,
Gang of Four,
Cybotron,
The Wake,
Section 25,
Ken Boothe,
The Monks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pantytec,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
James White and The Blacks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
Pharoah Sanders,
Metal Thangz,
Stetsasonic,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nico,
The Busters,
The J.B.'s,
Skriet,
Lower 48,
Hot Snakes,
Donald Byrd,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Theoretical Girls,
Blossom Toes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Gun Club,
Deepchord,
The Cure,
Sixth Finger,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bobby Byrd,
The Real Kids,
Junior Murvin,
Unwound,
Hoover,
Drexciya,
Black Flag,
Rotary Connection,
The Invisible,
Lungfish,
Reuben Wilson,
Ponytail,
Desert Stars,
The Fuzztones,
John Holt,
Dave Gahan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Nik Kershaw,
Joe Smooth,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.